AN: A HUGE thank you to all who are still reading this monstrosity of a story. To all who reviewed, I thank you. To all who follow, you have my gratitude.

This is a small chapter that I ended sooner than planned because it just made sense. I hope everyone likes it.

Reviews feed my soul (and my muse) so if you enjoy this, please consider saying so. If you don't, I invite you to message me and tell me why.

As always all mistakes are mine.

A family was not something Oliver Queen had ever considered. And "wanting" never even crossed his mind. His early childhood, spent mostly as an only child, had been carefree and completely without responsibility or the need to think of people other than himself. And by the time Thea came around he was beginning to think about things other than vanquishing mythical creatures with fake swords or pretending to be a superhero with Tommy.

When puberty had hit, it had hit hard and fast. Girls became his sole focus, and coupled with fast cars and alcohol they were a way of saving himself from the boredom created by familial responsibilities and the pressures of school.

A family never entered his consciousness.

Until a party in Central City and a one night stand with a girl resulted in a phone call four weeks later. The girl was pregnant.

"Ollie" had panicked, he hadn't been ready to be a father. There were schools to drop out of and parties to attend. Diapers and spit up and sleepless nights didn't fit into his plans. Money wasn't a problem, of course. He could give his kid anything and everything it needed.

Everything except himself.

What started with a phone call, ended it all with one just as quickly. One minute he was going to be a dad and the next he was free, the baby no more. After the relief had passed he'd been left with a surprising sense of disappointment. It had been stupid really. He hadn't wanted a kid so why the feeling of loss, the sense that he'd missed out on something.

When he drifted to the island, his thoughts drifted to the child that never was and he found himself wishing more than once that he or she had survived, wishing a piece of him could have lived on, something his Mother and Sister could have clung to in their grief.

By the second year on island he thought about it less and less. By the time he'd woken up in Hong Kong he was too deep in the darkness and the thoughts had become a faint memory.

It wasn't until years later and the birth of little Sara Diggle that a shift began in Oliver. It could've been the sight of woman he loved hovering near the newborn that had started it all or the simple fact that his best friend had found a way to balance the demands of hero work with a life and a family.

It had taken a sword through the chest, being kicked off a mountain and almost losing Felicity to a deranged gunman for Oliver to realize that denying himself a life wasn't something he was willing to do any longer. Sure, it took months of getting to know Felicity better as friends before he would've ever considered taking it further. Lucky for him a bottle of vodka and a dare by his sister had given him everything he never knew he wanted.

Stepping from the shower, Oliver reached for his favourite towel and thankfully found it exactly where he'd left it the night before. If he didn't manage to shower before Felicity, Oliver often found his towel wet and thrown in the laundry bin before he got a chance to use it. He got his own back though by leaving the towel he was forced to use on the bed (her side) while he dressed.

Oliver's revenge backfired on him when one night, after hours of patrolling the streets, he'd come home to find his side of the bed damp, probably caused by his towel laid perfectly under the covers, hiding and waiting for him.

He smiled and shook his head at the memory of Felicity quietly telling him he could lay in the damp all night or go sleep on the sofa where he belonged.

Despite the heavy amounts of steam clouding the bathroom mirror, Oliver caught a brief flash of his reflection and the stupid grin that etched either side of his mouth. What he'd said to Felicity last night was true – he was happy. Very happy. And regardless of not knowing where there were going to live, or how they were going to get around, or how they were going to take care of not one but two babies, he was a ridiculously and irrationally happy man.

After their pointed discussion last night, Oliver felt more at ease with Felicity and (if possible) more cemented in their relationship. She still had yet to say the words, three little life changing syllables, but it didn't change what he knew to be true in his heart.

She loved him. He could feel it.

And when the right time came, she would tell him.

As the saying goes, actions speak louder than words. And if that was true, Felicity loved him with every ounce of her soul.

Leaving the warmth of the bathroom, he returned to their igloo of a bedroom and fought off the chill he felt every time he entered the room. An overheating pregnant woman and a Starling City heat wave made for interesting times in the loft.

He'd hoped he would find her trying to get some sleep but instead Felicity was pacing beside the bed, her cell phone pressed to her ear, and dressed in her tank top and shorts.

"…Listen, any chance you could move the budget meeting to tomorrow and clear my schedule for the afternoon?..."

Oliver briefly wondered why she was re-arranging her day before reaching into the closet and pulling out the first thing he touched.

"Yeah, I'm here….Really? Great! You're the best, Jerry. What? Oh, Oliver and I are going shopping…"

They were?

His head snapped towards her. "We are?"

"Shhhh….What? No, not you Jerry. I was talking to Oliver. Yes, he just got out of the shower…Jerry? Are you there?"

Oliver pulled the shirt he'd plucked from the closet on only to find a stain on it that looked suspiciously like gravy. He sniffed. And it smelled a lot like gravy too.

"I think I lost him. Jerry? Jerry? Hello?"

The stained shirt quickly came off and found its way to the overflowing laundry hamper in the corner.

"…I can hear you breathing. Are you okay? Is it your asthma?"

He grabbed at another shirt only to pause. Digg had intended the shirt to be a joke after him and Felicity broke the news about the twins, so Oliver had regulated it to the foundry where he would use it on an emergency basis only. Somehow though, it was now hanging in his closet (or the small percentage of the closet that had been deemed his after Felicity had moved in).

"Jerry breathe…in…out…in…out..."

Oliver reached for a third shirt.

"Wear that one."

He looked at her, confused. Who was she was talking to?

"Yes, you," she said, pointing at the closet. "The shirt you were looking at. Wear that one today." The smile she flashed him was beyond bright – it was blinding. "For me?"

He glanced back at the shirt, the gift from John, then back at her. "I'm not wearing this in public, Felicity."

"Oh, don't be such a baby," she sighed. "No, not you Jerry…yes Oliver…Why do you want to know what he's wear – I'm not telling you that, Jerry!"

He fingered the shirt she'd asked him to wear and he found himself torn. As much as he'd do anything for Felicity, there were limits. And this for him was skirting those limits.

"If not for me, then do it for them," Felicity pleaded, one hand rubbing her swollen belly to drive home her point.

Oliver sighed and gave in, pulling the black T-shirt over his head. The things he did for this woman he loved.

"Oh, Jerry, he's wearing the shirt Digg bought him. Yes, that's the one. It fits perfectly." She laughed into the phone, whatever Jerry said obviously delighting her.

They were going shopping… Should he wear the jeans he'd planned on or switch to the black cargo pants? He reached for the jeans.

"What was the name of that place you took me to once, the one with the amazing hot dogs?...Costco, that's it! Do you think I could remember that? Ugh, this pregnancy is effecting my brain and making me cuckoo."

Felicity moved, animated as always while on the phone and Oliver caught sight of himself in the mirror behind her. He tried very hard not to cringe. Could he really wear this in public?

"So I was thinking…now that my schedule is free and clear you might like to join us. Assuming you still have your membership."

With us?

"Oh, Oliver won't mind."

He wouldn't?

"Besides our transportation options are limited to a Ducati, a Porsche, and a Mini. None of which have enormous amounts of trunk space."

One of many reasons why Oliver had tried to get Felicity to think of purchasing a more family oriented vehicle these past seven weeks.

"Oliver can squeeze in the back of the Prius, not to worry."

Why did his bad knee suddenly start aching?

"Can you pick us up in say, an hour? Great! Thanks Jerry, you're the best." Felicity laughed. "Remember this when bonus time comes around? I might be persuaded to do that."

There was an exchange of goodbyes before Felicity hung up, unceremoniously dropping her cell to the bed. She glided across the room, stopping in front of Oliver, head titled exposing her throat. Her hair was still messy from sleep and the glasses normally perched high on her nose were slipping but what Oliver mostly took notice of was the face of serenity gazing up at him.

"You don't really mind, do you? I mean, I guess I should've asked you first about the whole shopping thing –"

"No, shopping's fine."

The head titled to the right which Oliver knew was Felicity's patented was-that-a-load-of-BS-or-what move.

"It is, really."

"But…"

Oliver sighed. How did he explain to this woman, this adorable creature carrying his children that it wasn't what they were going to do but with whom? And wearing this ridiculous shirt.

"It's Jerry isn't it?" Felicity frowned. "I thought you said you liked him."

"I do, it's just – look I gave him a codename."

"To shut him up."

"It's the thought that counts."

Felicity placed her palms on his chest and his skin absorbed what little heat radiated off them. "Is this really about Jerry or is it something you're not telling me?"

Perceptive as usual, Felicity had quickly figured out that his reluctance and lack of enthusiasm wasn't solely about her friend.

"It's just – " He stopped, unsure of his words and how to make her understand what it was he wanted to say. "Every morning you go to work. You spend the day with Jerry then you come home and by then I'm usually heading out for a night of patrolling the streets. Lately I'm lucky if I get to see you because most of the time you're fast asleep curled around that thing you call a pillow when I get home."

"It's a U-shaped maternity pillow," she said, suddenly irritated, "and it's the most wonderful thing in the world. I wouldn't sleep at all if not for that thing I call a pillow."

Oh, he was more than aware of her attachment to the pillow (or the demented marshmallow as Roy affectionately dubbed it). More often than not, Oliver was regulated to the edge of their King sized bed because of it. Even after sex. When they'd been having sex.

A memory of last night's attempt at some sexy time came flooding back and he smiled despite the awkwardness and the effort of two little troublemakers to thwart them.

"What I'm trying to say is, I was hoping it would be just the two of us, you know, shopping for the little ones." With their height difference it was easy enough for Oliver to reach between Felicity's outstretched arms on his chest to lay his hands on her belly. "Soon it won't only be just us."

Her hands on his chest began massaging him with slow even circles. "Well I have this boss who doesn't make me work on the weekend so how about we spend Saturday together – just the four of us – shopping for furniture."

He frowned. "Furniture?"

Felicity smacked him in the chest with her hand. "For the nursery."

"Oh," he said and slowly he felt his face stretch into the same grin he'd seen in the mirror earlier. "Yeah. I'd like that."

"I mean, goodness knows just where this nursery will be. At this rate we'll be living in the foundry with the rats."

"Felicity…"

"Ugh, I know, I know… It'll work itself out."

"Yes," He leaned in and kissed her quickly on the end of her pert nose. "It will."

"Alright, you," she pulled back, but not before her hand connected with his chest again. Love taps, she liked to call them. "Jerry will be here in less than an hour and I have to create a miracle."

"You're always beautiful."

Felicity snorted. "You have to say that. But thank you."

"I mean it."

"Of course you do," she sighed, her words hinting at disbelief.

Felicity angled herself around him and padded from the room and Oliver considered it his opportunity to change shirts. She wouldn't notice, would she?

"And don't think of changing into something else." Her voice rang out from the bathroom. "You're wearing that shirt."

Oliver rolled his eyes and let out a huge sigh. The black T-shirt Digg had (jokingly) given him, mocked him in the mirror from across the room.

I Make Twins

What's your superpower?

It was going to be a long day.

Short I know. Sorry about that. What did you think?

Next up: The three stooges - I mean Oliver, Felicity & Jerry - head to Costco.